


lost in the lights

by myhoneybeeheart



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21656398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myhoneybeeheart/pseuds/myhoneybeeheart
Summary: "How quaint." He sums up, eventually. It would be almost dismissive if he didn't look like he wanted to eat you alive.Reader has been propositioned by everyone's favorite devil in LA.
Relationships: Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 235





	lost in the lights

He makes you wait for bolting the last time. You're sat in a back booth of the pounding club in your tights and red ballet flats. You'd come straight from work so you're overdressed for the occasion, in a long pleated navy skirt and a white Peter Pan collared shirt. You'd been cold outside, wearing only your thin red cardigan, but it had matched your shoes! It was an ensemble! You had come straight from work because if you hadn't you would have lost your nerve. 

You shouldn't be doing this.

A glass of amber liquid appeared at the table and you eyed it cautiously. You wanted full control of your senses in case this went south. The waitress gestured to one of the darkened, private rooms on the floor above with a tilt of her head.  
"Mr. Morningstar says you need to relax, chica." She says, tossing her hair before flouncing off. 

Apparently, it wasn't just a nicety.

You drink the glass, sharp and bitter on your tongue, but smooth to swallow. Your limbs start to relax after a few minutes, even before a different waitress comes by with another glass. 

By the time you finish the third glass you're a little hazy but pick up the key card that's been laid in front of you with surer hands than you think you're capable of.

Making your way through the crowd of people swaying to a thick rhythm has your skin buzzing. You ache. There's an inevitability to your steps that makes you shiver. Heat pooling low in your stomach. 

You hold up the keycard to the bouncer who stands in front of the gold-gilded elevator and he takes one look at you, before stepping aside. Quite the poker face his staff seems to have. The farther up the elevator climbs the quieter the music gets until it's just unnatural silence. No elevator should be this quiet, you think trying not to sound hysterical, even in your own mind. 

Once the penthouse doors open you take a deep breath before stepping inside. Next to you is a sofa table where you gently put your purse. The doors behind you slide shut and you're cast into near darkness. You frown. You had kind of expected him to meet you there at least.

As your eyes adjust you see that the bar to your left lit from behind, in a soft orange glow, is your only real point of reference about the room. You clutch your purse in your hand, unwilling to let it go. Should you leave? This seems like a trap. A lamp flicks on in another room and your head spins that direction in time to see Lucifer step into the doorway.  
"No bolting this time, kitten?" He sounds amused.  
"Mr. Morningstar-" he cuts you off.  
"Tsk, tsk none of that. I assume you're here because you accepted my, very generous, offer, right?" You nod. Even though he shouldn't be able to see you he continues. "Lovely! Then I think you're welcome to call me Lucifer. Now, relinquish your chokehold on that poor little thing you call a purse and come over here." You can hear the purr in his voice. "The bedroom's this way."

Everything warm inside you pools lower and you can feel yourself getting wet at the implication of what you've agreed to. How did he put it?

"Help you rid yourself of that pesky purity you're clinging to."

Your feet move of their own volition towards the doorway even as he disappears into the room. You find the bedroom with your arms folded across your chest nervously. Lucifer is sitting in one of the large armchairs on the left side of the massive bed. He has one ankle resting on his other knee, relaxed back into the chair with a whiskey glass in the rest not resting on a massive thigh. He's still in his slacks, shirt and hair tousled like he's already been corrupting someone else tonight. But the bed is pristinely made, so that might just be the insecurity talking.

You try and fail not to squirm when he looks you over with assessing dark eyes.  
"How quaint." He sums up. It would almost be dismissive if he didn't look like he wanted to eat you alive. "Take your shoes off."

You toe your flats off one at a time into a neat line and bite your lip. You've never had someone talk to you like that. Well, never reacted like this to it at least. Your skin feels like it's buzzing with too much energy. You're soaking your panties, probably ruining them.

(If you're honest with yourself, you have been since before you stepped into Lux.)

"Cardigan next, I think." You slip it off your shoulders with trembling hands. You're not scared. You should be. But all you feel is need. 

Once it's off you must make a face because he chuckles. "The floor is fine. Those tights next and then bring them over here, would you?" You spend a moment trying to decide what the best way to take them off might be. He's going to see you naked soon enough, you tell yourself and so you shrug, sliding hands under your skirt and slipping the tights over your thighs. You stumble a bit pulling them off and blush for the first time. 

This is decidedly not a sexy striptease. Gathering them in your hand you blush harder when you realize not only are they warm from your body heat but they're soaked too. Wordlessly, you cross the bedroom dropping them in his lap. He grins up at you.

"Cat got your tongue?"  
"No." You say quickly, for lack of anything better to say. Inside you're screaming. From where you stand you can smell his whiskey and his cologne. This man smells like fucking. You can't believe you managed to wait two weeks for this. He uncrosses his legs and sets aside his glass before he reaches to pull you between his spread legs. You rest your hands on his shoulders. "Just nervous." You're nothing if not honest.

His hands slide proprietarily from your hips back over your ass, squeezing for just a moment. It's enough to make you gasp even as his warm hands skim down the back of thighs. You're trying not to tremble when a hand slides up your skirt in the opposite direction. His free hand comes to the side of your face and cups your cheek, his smile warm but predatory.

"Would you like a kiss, darling?" You nod and suddenly you've leaned down and he's kissing you. Slowly at first. Soft presses of his lips into yours. Then he skims the hand under your skirt over your panty-clad ass and you gasp.

His tongue slides into your mouth, seeking and warm. The heat inside you turns up tenfold and where your actions before had been hesitant, now you're reacting to him with fervor.

This is nothing like those boys you'd fumbled around with back home. He is hot and warm and scrapes your tongue with his teeth while he tugs your panties down without asking. 

Lucifer tugs you into his lap by the backs of your thighs, knees splayed over his hips. His hands are still under your skirt which means the pleats lay very nicely over the tops of his calves and rest high on your thighs.

When you settle against him you feel his cock through his slacks, on your thigh. He's hard and feels huge and he's still kissing you so deeply you feel like you need to come up for air.  
"Lucifer," you whine, pulling back, even as he flips your skirt over your hips.  
"Beautiful," he remarks. He's staring at you, bare in his lap. Legs spread wide over his hips.

No one's ever looked at you there. You can feel how wet you are for him and it's absolutely mortifying. You bury your face in his shoulder and he strokes your hair with long, clever fingers. "Sh, sh, sh." He coos, his voice low. 

Lucifer trails the pad of his finger very lightly through your folds, gathering the slick there to press against your clit. If it weren't for the hand holding your head to his shoulder, you might have leapt from the chair. The strangled noise you make gets a laugh from him. "Does that feel good, sweet girl?" You nod into his shoulder as he starts to rub your clit, slow. "Use your words." Swallowing a moan, you speak.  
"Feels really good."  
"Of course it does. That's what happens when you're all wet and messy for me." The palm of his hand slides over your vulva, holding your pussy completely. You can hear the slide of it and whine when he rubs his fingers over your hole. After wrenching another few cries from you, he stops. "Tell me this is for me." His voice is low in your ear, his breath hot against your neck and he's still so hard.  
"It's for you!" You parrot back, pressing your hips into his palm, looking for friction. "It's all yours." You babble when he doesn't respond, desperate to feel something against your aching core. Without warning, he slides one of his large fingers inside of you. You keen as he groans.  
"Good girl." He praises, and you can feel his finger rubbing inside of you, snug from the fit. His lips find the crook of your neck as his thumb finds your clit. It would be overwhelming without him talking through his kisses. "Soaking my hand like the wanton woman I know you are."

The sounds you're making are obscene. You start you rock your hips against his hand, even as he slides another one of his long, clever fingers inside of you.

"That's it." You feel so full. "Ride my fingers, love. It'll feel so good when you come." You're close, your muscles beginning to flutter around his pistoning fingers. His other hand slides through your hair, tugging it back so he can capture your lips as he fucks his fingers faster. "You're mine."

He growls and presses hard into your clit.

You scream when you come, soaking his hand and his trousers. He swallows your noises with his clever mouth, smiling into it. It's all white noise in your ears and he fucks you through your first orgasm at someone else's hand. 

When you come back to yourself, he still has his fingers buried inside you. He's smiling, wide. Luscious.

"That was…" you trail off as he pulls his hand from you. Bringing up his fingers while you try to catch your breath he sucks them into his mouth. Even after that mind-blowing orgasm, your pussy still clenches. "fucking hot." You finish.

Yeah, you shouldn't be doing this.  
But you really, really want to be.  
So you don't care.


End file.
